A/N: This is a quick one shot that came to me when I heard the Lady Antebellum song 'Need You Now.' I'd like to dedicate it to tancredi75 who wanted chapter 12 of my other story but I just couldn't get there. Happy Birthday! Please let me know what you guys think. Thanks for reading!
Jane sat for the most part alone in the low lit bar, slumped over the empty evidence of her third shot of whiskey, the fumes wafting up her throat until she could smell it and taste the burn. She wasn't at the Dirty Robber. No. The Robber was for good times and bad, times shared with friends and family…and Maura, comfort in the familiar. Thought of the medical examiner sent a jolt of…something through the detective's gut and she winced a little at the twinge of pain around her scar. Her right hand rubbed idly across the incision under the fabric of her un-tucked shirt as her hopeful gaze darted to the door out of habit finally signaling for another round to the bartender who was chatting with a grisly looking man at the opposite end. "Must be a tough one, Detective." His heavily whiskered face smiled kindly as he placed another sloppily poured glass in front of his patron, the viscous liquid spilling over the rim and onto the overly glossed wood. "You only show up here when you've got a tough case or somethin's eatin' at you." Not really interested in talk, Jane just nodded and stared into the amber liquid. "Thanks, Joe." Well versed in reading his audience, the stout man moved away, wiping down the shiny mahogany as he went with a towel that was probably so overused that Maura would readily sign a petition to close the place down. Maura. Shit. She really couldn't go there right now.
She loved this bar, The Bloody Barron for so many reasons; it was two blocks away from her apartment down a side alley which meant walking or stumbling distance home depending on the night and no one else knew that it was her private haven. Locals only. She was still dressed in the suit she had worn to the station after the explosion minus her jacket that was slung carelessly across the chair next to her. With the smallest of smiles, she sipped at the whiskey remembering Maura asking what she could do to help and then following through rather forcefully with security getting Jane access to the newly renovated Homicide offices. Victory had been short lived when Cavanaugh had made it painfully clear that she had no place being involved in the investigation since she wasn't approved for active duty by her doctor. What the fuck? It's what I fucking do. She was definitely beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, her eyes lazily drifting shut for a second.
You've made your bed, Rizzoli. Congratulations! "Yaaay," she rasped ironically to herself. Swirling the glass before her, Jane thought about the last few months. She had successfully managed to push almost every person of importance in her life including immediate family to the edge of involvement, to the place where they could only act as spectators without input and the surprising and supremely disappointing fact was that they had allowed her to do it. It's one thing to realize you are an asshole but it's quite another to see that the people closest to you accept it. There was only one person who didn't buy into all the bullshit she had been dealing…Maura. NO. Dammit! The familiar need twisted in her gut as it did every time lately when she thought of the medical examiner. Shaking her head, she raised her slender, sticky glass and toasted the lost, her voice low and broken, feeling an enormous amount of survivor's guilt. "For Abbie." Throwing the shot back with ease, she stared at her phone, her thumb hovering above the speed dial for her best friend, shooting Joe a nod of thanks when another shot appeared in front of her.
Maura had been the only one to make Jane her business and for some unknown reason to the typically recalcitrant detective, she had accepted the intrusion gratefully. Sure, she grumbled and complained every step of the way…that's just the way they did things. Her quirky friend was the one person who had held her hand through the entire recovery process and the only one Jane felt comfortable enough to open up to about her fears and the residual pain. She was certainly the only person allowed to see and touch the new additions in her collection of scars. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Jane acknowledged the fact that somewhere along the way, something crucial to the dynamic of their relationship; something of great importance had changed. An unconscious decision to slow down a little, she took a sip of the whiskey and cringed at the times Maura had held her hair back while she vomited into the toilet, nightmares ruling her sub-conscious again and interrupting their sleep. Dark dreams of Hoyt had taken a back seat to the unthinkable; short film versions of that fateful day at headquarters with outcomes altered, Frankie dead and the medical examiner's blood on her hands in too bright Technicolor. The muffled jingle of the bell above the door pulled expectant, dark eyes up to the dirty mirror behind the bar in time to see the two women who had been seated in a booth in the back take their leave. A heavy sigh rattled from somewhere deep inside and she took another sip of the alcohol welcoming the slow burn that reminded her why she was seated alone at the Barron in the first place.
She glanced at her watch and scowled. Quarter after one. Fuck. She dropped her phone back on the bar and scrubbed a slightly sticky hand over her face, dismissing the small wave of dizziness she felt when her eyes closed. God, she just really needed to hear that soothing voice but it was way past the boundary of appropriateness for friends to make phone calls to other friends without there being some sort of catastrophic emergency. Was it an emergency? Besides, she was certain that Maura had finished the autopsy hours ago and was probably at home in bed...with…him. "Ow, shit!" She leaned forward and grasped at her side, waving off Joe's concerns. Shit, that fucking hurts! Clenching her jaw against the pain, words came out through a grinder. "Fucky Slucky." Her own nickname made her clamp her eyes shut in an attempt to rid herself of the unwanted image of that smarmy bastard's royal we baby soft shithead hands all over slightly freckled silky skin. "FUCK!" Hissed through gritted teeth, she doubled over and pressed harder into her side, panting at the blinding pain, little white flashes painted against closed lids.
She would've smiled if she could have when she felt the familiar small cool hand cover her own, the other placed softly against the exit wound on her back. "It's okay, Jane. I've got you. Take your time. Slow breaths sweetie." She did as instructed, filling her nose with the doctor's warm scent, lavender and something she couldn't really put her finger on, something unique to her best friend. It took a minute or two but she finally managed to crack her eyes open and take in Maura's jean clad legs and, if she weren't mistaken, one of her missing BPD hoodies. The grin on her face couldn't be stopped if she tried, her voice coming out low and scratchy, finally able to sit up. "Hey." Wow. Really? That's all you got? "What are you doing here Maur?"
The doctor took her time getting comfortable on the stool next to Jane, their gaze never breaking as she contemplated her answer and studied her friend's appearance not missing the glassiness of her eyes or the fatigue shadowing her face and weighing down her shoulders. The truth her only option, she casually averted her gaze to the full shot glass on the bar, her manicured nail unsuccessfully smoothing a crease in the rumpled napkin beneath. "I… I needed to see you." Her smile was genuine and stole the detective's breath until an overprotective brain caught up with the particular choice of words and discarded the idea that the doctor could harbor the same feelings. Dark brows furrowed above a clenched jaw as Jane leaned forward a little into her friend's personal space, their shoulders touching and her concern immediate. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Did Fu…did Slucky do something?" She swallowed hard, "Cause I thought you would be home with him…"
Even with alcohol clouding her thoughts, the detective's powers of observation would beat most sober people on a good day so she didn't miss the way Maura tensed at the mention of her trauma surgeon's name. The events of the next ten seconds seemed to occur in slow motion. A frown of anger flashed across the doctor's face as she leaned into her friend and placed her hand on her thigh, reaching for the shot and downing the whiskey like an expert. Jane sputtered and laughed a little for her part caught between amusement and the overwhelming need to beat the hell out of Byron Slucky as she waited for further explanation. Signaling to the bartender by holding up two fingers, hazel green finally found concerned dark brown, glossy lips pursing in thought before words crossed through them. "Byron and I will not be seeing each other again."
At first, Jane could only blink at the revelation. When her hazy mind caught up to the words, she did her best to school her features into a mask of sympathy as she placed her scarred right hand over the one still resting lightly atop her thigh. "I… I'm so sorry Maura." The giggle that escaped her throat started a domino effect of laughter as she tried to cover and smother with her left hand, wholly unsuccessful and not all that concerned when she received a playful swat to her arm. "Okay. So I'm NOT sorry. I hated that guy and his stupid royal we and the way he looked at you like you were…um." Ooops. Cover! "You know he wasn't good enough for you right?" How is that better?
Jane wanted to kiss Joe square on the lips when he placed two more shots in front of them with a thunk and walked away. "Oh, look. Shots." Her hand was stopped half way to her mouth by quick fingers curled gently around her wrist. "How many of those have you had to drink, Jane?" Her sheepish grimace told the medical examiner everything she needed to know as she watched the glass return to its former resting place. "A few?" Dark eyes squinted then rolled when she watched her friend order some water and place it squarely in front of her on the bar. A manicured brow rose in challenge. "Drink that first. ALL of it." A low raspy curse was mumbled, something about not needing another mother but she did as told smiling into the glass. Suddenly the gnawing ache of hopelessness that had driven her to the Barron in the first place was no longer present, replaced by something else, a warmth she was sure had more to do with her company than the brown liquor.
A comfortable silence settled as she finished her water with an exaggerated slurp, smirk firmly in place as she continued to study the doctor who seemed uncharacteristically lost in her thoughts, staring at the half full shot glass with a frown as she rolled it absentmindedly between her finger and thumb. The detective narrowed her eyes in concern. After all the time they had spent together over the years and more specifically the close time they shared during her recovery, she was a practiced observer of all the varying faces and moods of Dr. Maura Isles and what she saw at the moment made her hands clench into fists, a protective precursor before an imminent explosion, her mind conjuring the worst as the pain around her scars kept perfect rhythm with her heart beat. "What happened tonight?" The question came out as though processed through a rusty meat grinder.
Startled from her reverie, hazel green eyes shot up to find blazing brown, nostrils flared and heart racing evident by the thumping of a pulse under olive skin. Her own thoughts pushed away, she placed a soothing hand on Jane's forearm, enormously grateful to be cared for so strongly but worried about her friend's pain management. "Hey… Look at me." Waiting until that laser beam of intensity of dark brown eyes locked onto hers, she smiled shyly and reached out to tuck an errant curl behind the detective's ear, happy when her friend leaned into her touch. Her own anger simmered under the surface as she finally relayed the events of the evening. "Let's just say that Byron and I had a difference of opinion when it came to your care." The look on Jane's face telegraphed the need for more information. "I told him that I was worried by the fact that you are still in so much pain and he dismissed my concerns by saying that I was 'merely a pathologist.'" The sip of whiskey that had been taken on the sly sprayed across the bar earning a disapproving look from the doctor. "He said WHAT…that dumb fuck…I swear I'm going to hit him next time I see him. I mean, you are…if I can ever get an appointment, I'm going to kick his royal 'we' ass and I don't care if he never clears me for duty. Ugh. I hate that guy…stupid motherfu...What?"
Maura couldn't hide her amusement at the tiny tirade, warmed by the alcohol and Jane's overprotective nature. Smiling she shook her head and lifted the shot glass, clinking it with her friend's in a silent toast before throwing it back. "Nothing. It's just that you're so…that's so sweet, Jane." She ignored the expected squirming and the muttered 'gross' with another smile, weighing the odds of the detective following through, furrowing her brows. "You aren't really going to hit Byron though right? Because you know that he would press charges and he really isn't worth the effort." A devious smirk fell into place and a dark brow arched. Hazel green eyes narrowed before they both broke out into a fit of laughter. God, this feels so good. It was the exact reason she had sought out Jane in the first place. She wasn't exaggerating when she said that she needed to be with her friend tonight. Something had happened between them during the months of recovery that they had spent in close proximity, a bond of some sort, a deepening of feelings that she tried not to overanalyze. It scared her initially and was the primary reason she started dating the surgeon in the first place, afraid that her need would be too overwhelming for the sometimes skittish detective. Sitting here now with their fingers laced together, she realized the flaw in her reasoning; that deep need was mutual.
The not so gentle poke in her ribs startled her out of her reverie. "What's with the goofy grin Dr. Isles?" Finding dark eyes, she wanted to point out that goofy seemed to be contagious. Instead she smiled coyly and threw some bills on the bar. "Take me home, Jane." The rapid shift in subject matter and the sultry tone in Maura's voice sent a sobering jolt through the detective's lean body. Did she really sound that way or did I just hear it that way? Shit. Waving her good-bye to Joe, she grabbed her jacket off the bar stool and allowed her friend to lead her out the door, their fingers twined comfortably together. They walked in silence for a while before something occurred to Jane and she pulled them up short finding hazel green. "Hey, how did you know where to find me? That's like my secret hideout." As if it were the most natural and obvious answer in the world, her friend tilted her head slightly and smiled her favorite smile. "Because I know you." And there it was; a simple explanation that carried the most profound of meanings. "And Jane…" Lids slid closed as soft lips placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, warm breath sending chill bumps down her spine. "Thank you for wanting to defend my honor." Goofy smile returned as she tucked Maura into her side and they walked on. "You're staying the night, right?" Her voice was lower and raspier than usual. "Of course…although you do know that technically it's already morning." Oh my god! Some things will never change. It was a comforting realization and she squeezed the woman in her arms. "Yes, Dr. Smartypants. I'm aware."
There it is. Please let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!